Memento
by jnharrow
Summary: One-shot for Perfectly Plum Tiara Challenge


_Disclaimer: I don't own any of JE's characters and I'm not making any money on this story._

_A one-shot for Perfectly Plum - Dee's Tiara Challenge _

_Use one or both of the following prompts: (1) What you really need to go with that is a tiara._

**Memento**

**by jnharrow**

I fingered the melted, twisted piece of metal; a bit of sparkle that had survived the fire winked up at me forlornly.

I felt a warm hand on the back of my neck and, belatedly, the tingle that always accompanies the person to whom it belongs.

"What's that, Babe?" Ranger asked.

I sighed. "It's stupid. It's nothing, really."

He crouched down beside me. "It was with your photo albums. Must be important to you."

My photo albums. I concentrated desperately on not crying. He must've known--he always does--because he started tracing soothing circles over my back and didn't say anything, waiting for me to break the silence.

I got it under control again. "No, it really is dumb. When I was little, my mother saw this ad in the paper that called for child models. She took Val and me down there with Mary Lou's mom. I think it was a 'what can we do to keep them out of our hair now' day." I grinned at him. "I was in her hair a lot.

"Anyway, it turned out to be a ploy to sucker parents into paying for modeling lessons. So for a couple months, once a week, we'd all trek to this place and play dress up and they'd make us up and take pictures, show us how to walk…all that stuff. My mom and Mary Lou's mom would go out to lunch while we were busy."

Now his hands had stopped and he'd pulled me in to lean against his side, his arm resting lightly around my shoulders.

I let my head fall back to rest on his chest and continued. "So at the end, there was this big runway show and judges and everybody got judged on how they did and whose portfolio was the best."

Hey. That sounded like a snort of laughter being suppressed there. I looked up at him accusingly.

"Sorry, Babe. It was the portfolio."

I glared at him. "Well, I had one. It was good too."

"Just can't picture you sitting still long enough to get pictures taken."

I remembered the nice lady who was helping us get dressed that day. She'd looked at my powder blue, lacy dress and sour expression and asked me, "Don't you like your outfit, dear?"

I scowled at her. "I hate this dress. It's got ruffles."

"Well, what would you rather be wearing?"

"A cape," I said, sullenly. "I want to be Wonder Woman, not pretty, pretty princess. Wonder Woman doesn't wear a cape, but she could if she wanted to because she's a superhero and if I was her, I'd want to, so I want to be wearing a cape."

She took in my stream of babble and eyed my outfit critically, lips pursed and finger on her chin. "Well, I don't have any capes today, but I think what you really need to go with that dress is a tiara. Wonder Woman needs a tiara doesn't she?"

She was right. Wonder Woman always had a tiara. The lady didn't have one like Wonder Woman's, but she'd set the one I now held in my hands on my head and sent me out with a smile on my face.

I smiled at the hunk of metal. "They got a lot of action shots," I said to Ranger and rolled my eyes at the effort he was exerting not to smile. "I won."

"The modeling contest, Babe?"

I nodded. "Everybody was a little shocked. Especially Val. Now I feel bad for her. She was really into it and I wasn't at all."

"Were you happy you won?"

I laughed. "I guess so. Mostly I was happy the lady let me keep the tiara." The reality of the situation sank back in and I stared at the gutted, smoky remains of my bedroom. "I'm so tired of people blowing up my stuff."

He planted a kiss on my head. "Can't do much about your cars, Babe."

I set the tiara in the trash bag.

He put a finger under my chin and lifted it so I'd look at him. "But you could always consider moving into a secure building."

"Yeah? Know of any?" I asked, deadpan. "That sounds kind of expensive. I don't know if I can afford it."

"I'm sure you can afford it, Babe."

He let my chin go and I made a noncommittal noise and looked down again, setting the empty cardboard memento box to the side. Nothing was in good enough shape to put in it.

"I happen to know of a good building. Safe," he continued. "They have a couple openings. We could negotiate a reasonable deal with the owner."

I dusted off my hands and stood up. He stood with me and let his hand trail down my arm to catch mine, interlacing our fingers.

"So the only question is if you'd prefer the fourth floor or the penthouse," he finished casually.

I blinked at him in surprise and said slowly, "I really can't afford the penthouse...can I?"

He shrugged and smiled at me. "You might need to take a roommate with that apartment."

Huh.

Well, really, who's gonna turn down living in the penthouse? I stretched up on my tiptoes, no heels on today, and brushed his lips lightly with mine.

I just hope my new roommate is friendly.


End file.
